


Aftermath

by Bentrumors



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Developing Relationship, Humor, M/M, Morning After, Penis Size
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 20:54:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1402120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bentrumors/pseuds/Bentrumors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Would you like me to ask Detective Paul if you may borrow his donut pillow?”   </p>
<p>“Shut up.”  John gave the keys a vicious twist to start the engine.  “Normal people pretend nothing happened the morning after.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

John didn’t quite manage to stifle his groan as he slid into the car. He took a big gulp of his coffee and groaned again, more loudly, when Dorian dropped into the seat beside him, as if enamored with the mediocre taste instead of trying to cover up his deep, _deep_ discomfort. 

Dorian wasn’t fooled. “Would you like me to ask Detective Paul if you may borrow his donut pillow?” 

“Shut up.” John gave the keys a vicious twist to start the engine. “Normal people pretend nothing happened the morning after.” Even if they were walking bow-legged afterwards.

Dorian laughed. “Okay, man.”

“Okay?” John shot a suspicious glance at his partner, but Dorian just gazed serenely back at him. John relaxed slightly and pulled the car out, like he wasn’t still feeling the tacky ooze of whatever _blue_ fluid Dorian had used from inside his own body as lube. 

Dorian nodded to himself, watching the traffic. “Nothing happened this morning,” he repeated, then turned back to John and smirked, “but what about last night?” 

“Christ, Dorian!” John growled. 

"You know, John, most people mellow after sex,” Dorian admonished. 

“Most people didn’t have a bat shoved up their ass,” John snapped. “Twice,” he glared at Dorian.

“You asked for it.” Dorian looked down at his lap and smoothed a hand over the bulge in his pants. “Twice.” He smiled at John and settled back in his seat, content. 

“Fuck,” John muttered, stomping on the gas. 

He should’ve known Dorian would gloat like an ass. If anyone was going to be gloating it should’ve been him, he deserved a damn medal for taking that dick like a champ. Especially the first time, Christ, it had been a while since John had let a guy bend him over, and none of them had been packing what Dorian had. Then the second time he was still slick and open, so it should’ve been easy except nothing about that monster cock carving out his insides again was easy. 

After the night he had, what John didn’t deserve was Dorian outing them to the rest of the precinct because he was strutting around like cock of the walk, which was guaranteed to happen at this rate. 

Out of the corner of his eye, John could see blue lights dancing across Dorian’s cheek and a hot flush prickled up his neck. “Stop that!”

“Stop what, John?”

“You’re replaying last night!” 

“Yes.” Dorian closed his eyes. 

The bastard then played back John’s wrecked voice: “Make me take it, come on--” 

Ignoring the tightening in his pants, John swore extensively, ending with, “I am going to have Rudy wipe your damn memory.”

Dorian didn’t bother to open his eyes, unthreatened. “No, you won’t.”

“I will.” John smiled meanly, warming to the idea. 

Dorian finally looked at him, but he was still unimpressed. “He’ll want to know why, and you’re a terrible liar, John.”

John was offended. “I’m a great liar.” When Dorian opened his mouth to argue, John jabbed a finger at him. “People believed everything I told them about Paul’s leave.”

“Man, they wanted to believe it because they don’t like him. You could have told them he was wearing women's undergarments.”

“Okay, bad exam-- undergarments?" John repeated derisively. "Your colloquialisms file needs some fine tuning."

"I said what I meant, John. _Undergarments_ , plural for--" 

"I know what it means! Just say panties, all right? It's sexier." John picked up his coffee cup and took a long satisfied drink, lesson over. 

"Are you imagining Detective Paul or Detective Stahl in sexy panties?" Dorian asked. 

"What?" John sputtered, almost dropping his cup. "Oh, Jesus," he moaned, hating his brain when it ignored Stahl and focused on Paul. "Now I need a disc wipe." 

Then he wanted to kick himself. He could see Dorian's processor flip back to where they'd started. 

“Regardless of what you say to convince Rudy I warrant a memory wipe, he’ll replay the files first to verify. Do you want him to see you like that, John? I can refresh your memory again with my audio files, if that’ll help--” 

John slammed to a stop at the light and pinned him with a look. “Okay, sure. How ‘bout you start at the beginning when you were begging to fuck me.”

“I’m not ashamed of that; you’re an attractive, virile man, Detective.” 

“Damn right,” John smirked. 

“I am honored that of all the people available, you chose me--”

“All right, that’s enough,” John grunted. It wasn’t like dates were banging down John’s door.

Dorian was quiet for a moment. “Do you really want to forget it happened?” 

“Yes.” He didn't want Dorian giving him shit all day, so there needed to be some ground rules. “When we’re at work, that’s exactly what I want. We are going to pretend we did not exercise monumentally bad judgment last night.” 

Dorian gave him a small smile. “And this morning.” 

Jesus, the guy didn't quit. That's what made him a good partner. And great in bed. Fuck, he really was great in bed. John shifted in his seat. Cleared his throat. Squinted at the road. “And probably tonight." 

Dorian beamed at him. “It’s too bad though,” he said, clearly baiting John.

John bit anyway, because he was a sucker. “What?” he asked with a resigned sigh.

“I wanted to see Detective Paul’s reaction to my having sex when he’s not.”

“Jesus, I told you not to—“John bit off the rebuke because despite himself, he couldn’t not ask, “Why were you scanning his balls?” 

“I was bored. He’s backed up worse than you ever were.”

John didn’t want to think about that too hard, but still, “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.” John grinned slyly. “He was really broken up when I shot his Ken doll. Guess that explains it.”

“If that’s the case, you should shoot the replacement too, put it out of its misery.”

“Then Maldonado would make me a Ken doll,” John grimaced.

Dorian laughed. “I would really like to kiss you now,” he blurted. 

“Yeah, well.” The feeling was definitely mutual. John let his hand drop to Dorian’s thigh for a moment. He gave it a squeeze before picking up his coffee again. “I’ll owe you one.”


End file.
